Second Chances
by Angranse
Summary: HP/Naruto crossover. After a long and bitter war and unnecessary deaths, the Golden Trio get a second chance as Sasuke, Sakura and Naruto. Of course, some other, less deserving people were also given a second chance.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The Third Hokage held the infant Uzumaki Naruto in his arms and sighed. Naruto was only a week old, yet there was an unnatural light of intelligence in his eyes. The ninjas who had brought Naruto to the reinstated Hokage had thought it was a sign of demon possession.

Sarutobi knew better. He had dismissed all his guards and attendants, and now sat alone in his office wondering how to explain such a life-changing event.

"Are you awake?" he asked Naruto. The baby only blinked up at him innocently, and Sarutobi smiled. "I know you can understand me," he said. "I know that you were once a wizard."

The infant's eyes went wide, and Sarutobi knew he was right. "Can you speak?" he asked. The baby screwed up its face and gurgled. "Ah well. I'm sure you'll relearn fine motor skills very quickly. For now, I suppose you're wondering why you are alive once again, when you no doubt remember dying?"

Naruto gurgled again. Sarutobi supposed that was an affirmative, and nodded. "I'll start from the beginning. This dimension and our previous dimension have always been connected, somehow. I remain uncertain as to the cause, but the effect is that every now and then a wizard or witch of unusually strong spirit, someone who made a lasting impression on the world, will be reincarnated in this world. Perhaps due to their strong magic, or chakra, as it is called here, they retain their memories."

Naruto was watching Sarutobi intensely and silently, so he continued.

"I myself was once a wizard. I went by the name of Albus Dumbledore." Here Sarutobi had to stop as Naruto yelled loudly and thrashed his arms about. "Oh, you knew me? That does make things easier. Now, please stop wriggling, my dear boy. I would hate to drop you."

Naruto obediently quietened down. Sarutobi paused for a moment to regather his thoughts. "Where was I? Oh yes. This is a very rare phenomenon. I know of only one other former wizard alive here at the present time. It is also a phenomenon we prefer to keep to ourselves, so please try to imitate a normal child to a certain extent."

Sarutobi looked down at Naruto and sighed. "And then there is the matter of the Nine-Tailed Fox, but I suppose that can wait until you have learnt to talk." Naruto made a growling sound at that, and Sarutobi smiled. "I will hand you over to the orphanage for now, but rest assured, I will watch over you closely."

The door opening surprised him, and he looked up. His assistant tentatively poked his head around the door. "Hokage-sama? The orphanage people are here." Sarutobi noticed that the assistant was giving him some very strange looks, and smiled beatifically.

"I'll be right out," he said cheerfully. As he left, Naruto in his arms, he mused, "I wonder if that sweet shop is still open? I'll have to restock my supplies."

Naruto chortled.

---

A month later, Sarutobi was visiting the Uchiha Compound when Uchiha Fugaku proudly had his wife bring out his six month old son, Sasuke. Sarutobi dutifully admired him, but was shocked out of his habitual pleasant demeanour when the boy looked up at him and said gravely, "Hokage-sama."

Sarutobi stared at him, then said without thinking, "A wizard?"

Sasuke's eyes went wide. "You too?" he said, sounding stunned.

Sarutobi groaned and put his head in his hands. "Another one," he said faintly, then pulled himself together. "What was your name?"

"Harry Potter," the boy replied, and Sarutobi stared, then laughed out loud. He gathered Sasuke up, ignoring his protests, and held him tightly.

"Excuse me? Did I know you?" Sasuke sounded shocked, but Sarutobi couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

"My dear boy. My dear _boy_," he whispered. "I am so very glad to see you again."

---

Sarutobi immediately returned to the orphanage, and was not surprised at all to find that Naruto had learnt how to talk. He was even less surprised when Naruto claimed to be Ron Weasley.

"I think there's someone you'll want to meet," Sarutobi smiled.

Now that Sarutobi knew that Ron Weasley and Harry Potter had been reincarnated, he began a systematic search for Hermione Granger. After all, where those two went, she was never far behind.

He found nine-month-old Haruno Sakura poring over books on chakra manipulation, to her parents worry and disbelief. Sarutobi pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I think all three of you had better come with me," he said exasperatedly once he had explained the situation to Sakura. _So much for my peaceful retirement_, he thought. "The gods only know what sort of trouble you'll get up to if I leave you alone."

Sakura nodded crisply. "Good," she said. "There are just a few things about chakra strings I'd like you to clear up for me…"

Sarutobi settled himself more comfortably. He could see it was going to be a long day, with a tiring few years to follow.

---

It wasn't as bad as he had been expecting, Sarutobi had to admit. He had known about what the Golden Trio had been capable of in their last lives - the other reincarnated wizard currently alive had filled him in on their exploits after Albus died, and so Sarutobi had been prepared to deal with ruthless, dangerous soldiers. Killers.

And while they were all of that, they were also polite, occasionally kind, intelligent and mischievous, a combination Sarutobi had always had a weakness for. They had absorbed his training like sponges, and then pushed him for more. Even Naruto's internal guest had proven less troublesome than Sarutobi had expected, although the huge amounts of chakra he supplied Naruto with made powerful techniques very easy and weak techniques very hard.

There had been a few problems. All three of the children had clearly painful emotional scars which they had point-blank refused to discuss with Sarutobi. Sarutobi had nearly had a heart-attack the first time he saw Sasuke manifest the Mangekyo Sharingan. Both Sasuke and Naruto had refused to speak about it, but Sakura had quietly taken Sarutobi aside afterwards and explained.

"Harry was faced with a choice between saving Ron and killing Voldemort. He chose to kill Voldemort, and so was responsible for Ron's death," Sakura had explained. She and Sarutobi had both looked at Sasuke and Naruto then, their heads bent together over a scroll, and Sakura had added quietly, "I tried to heal Harry afterwards, but he wanted to die. The best healer in the world can do nothing for someone who doesn't want to live." She paused, then said, "I don't think Harry will ever forgive himself."

Sarutobi had hesitated, then nodded. "I understand," he replied, equally quietly. "I won't bring it up again." Sakura gave him a brief, pained smile, then rejoined her friends. As Sarutobi watched them, sitting so close together they were almost touching, he was suddenly, painfully, glad. If anyone had ever deserved another chance, it was these three.

---

For some years, the four of them lived peacefully. They trained for battle, yes, but battle had no immediate impact on their lives. Combat training was nothing more than a game.

It came to an end soon enough. International tensions were rising, and Konoha's ranks of ninjas still hadn't recovered to pre-Nine-Tailed Fox levels. Sarutobi sighed, and put his head in his hands.

The swish of papers sliding on his desk startled him out of his reverie, and he glanced up in surprise to see Sasuke, Naruto and Sakura all perched at various angles in front of him. He sat back in his chair, raising an eyebrow at the unusually serious expressions on their faces.

They exchanged a look amongst themselves, then Sasuke spoke. "You need us, right," he said flatly.

Sarutobi sat up straight. "What? What do you mean?"

"You don't have enough ninjas," Sakura said matter-of-factly. "You need us on active duty, but you're too honourable to ask children to kill."

Naruto nodded. "But we're not children, and we don't mind killing, or spying, or stealing, and we owe you."

"You should make use of us," Sasuke finished.

Sarutobi stared, struck speechless. "You can't- you don't seriously think I'd send three-year-olds out to fight. I admit that you would be a great asset to Konoha, but…"

All three of the children were smiling, if a little grimly. "You need us. We're capable and willing. I fail to see what the problem is," Sasuke said lightly.

Naruto chimed in with a roguish grin, "I'm getting kinda sick of training anyway. I could use a good fight."

Sarutobi felt his resistance crumbling, and pulled himself together by sheer force of will. "No. No. Absolutely not. I could never condone such a thing."

The Golden Trio went on their first mission a week later, and Sarutobi felt himself take another step down the wide and curving path to hell. He stood silently at the window of his tower during the three days they were gone, grim-faced, waiting for their return.

They returned safely and successfully, and missions became a regular occurrence. Sarutobi watched and worried and did his best to take care of his wild, dangerous, broken-hearted children. He saw his beloved children become quieter and grimmer, and knew that for all their talk of needing no-one but each other, they were very lonely.

_What would be best for them?_ he wondered. _Perhaps…_Sarutobi sat back in his comfortable arm-chair in his quarters and did what he did best: plotted.

* * *

A/N: Okay! My first Harry Potter/Naruto crossover, posted! This came from two of the series' I really like having a loudmouth boy, a brooding boy and a smart girl as their main characters. The thought of them being the _same_ characters was just too tempting to resist. The next two chapters are written, so I'll post them as soon as they're edited.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

In the depths of the caves beneath the Hokage's Monument, the most secure location in Konoha, the Hokage laid out the plan to Kakashi.

There were three children, three prodigies, who performed top secret missions for him. Spying missions, mostly, as well as assassinations, for the good of Fire Country. These weren't missions that Konoha was paid for. These were missions that no-one except the Hokage and the Feudal Lord himself would ever know about.

They were to be A-class and S-class mostly, and all completely off the record. Less dangerous than Anbu or hunter-nin work, but more secret, the Hokage said. They _must not be caught_.

Since none of the children were officially ninjas, they couldn't be traced back to Konoha, even if they were caught. Kakashi was to assist these children, Team Phoenix, the Hokage called them, to the best of his abilities, and obey them in all things.

With forced politeness, Kakashi pulled the Hokage over to one side of the room. The three masked children of Team Phoenix sat swinging their legs innocently. It made Kakashi want to cringe.

"Hokage-sama," he said, and never had the formality seemed more false than it did now, "with all due respect, do you really expect me to take orders from three year olds?"

The old man looked slightly less serene than normal. "Anbu-san, I have already told you twice that these are not normal children. I hope I will not have to repeat myself."

"There is no three year old alive who is capable of commanding a shinobi team. Their minds are simply too small," Kakashi hissed.

The Hokage sighed. "Hatake-san, these are not children. Their bodies may be three years old, but their minds-"

"Hokage-sama," a childish, piping voice said reprovingly, "a lady never reveals her age."

Kakashi turned. The masked child on the right had spoken, and Kakashi was startled. He hadn't realised one of them was a girl. With their hair all dyed grey and cut short, and their faces covered, it was almost impossible to distinguish between them.

"Suffice it to say," the one on the far left continued, "that we are both very competent and very experienced at both assassination and infiltration. Unfortunately, if we appear to be travelling alone, people become worried."

"It's very civic-minded of them, to worry about unaccompanied children," the one on the right added. "In any other circumstances we would commend their responsibility."

Kakashi stared. He'd seen a lot of strange things as an Anbu, and, hell, _killed_ a lot of strange things, but seeing three-year-olds discussing civic duties like middle-aged men and women was downright creepy.

The Hokage spoke gently from behind him. "Hatake-san, even if you can't trust this team yet, please trust me. Try one mission, and if it doesn't work out, you can go back to solo Anbu-work."

Kakashi swallowed. After a moment, he said to the Hokage, though didn't turn around, "Which one is the leader?"

"Ay-san," the Hokage replied. That wasn't very helpful, but the child in the middle raised its head.

"How do I say this?" it pondered, and Kakashi guessed that it was a boy. So two boys and a girl, then. "My first impression of you is… I don't like you."

Kakashi sweat-dropped. It was going to be a long mission.

---

They eventually settled into an uneasy truce, although there were a few hiccups at first. Ay-san did expect to be obeyed, and was entirely prepared to enforce that obedience.

For the first few days, every time Kakashi called one of the team Ay-kun, Be-chan or See-kun, he found himself assigned extra chores at the end of the day. After the third day, when he didn't finish work until midnight while the children lounged around the camp, he finally snapped.

"Well, what am I supposed to call you?" he asked angrily, tired and dirty and beginning to think this team were less children and more demons.

"Ay-san," the leader said flatly, pointing to himself. "Be-san," pointing to the girl. "See-san," pointing to the other boy. "Will that be a problem, Ha-ta-ke Ka-ka-shi?" He lilted out the name, and even in his sweet, childish voice, Kakashi could hear the tone of a taunt.

"No. Sir," Kakashi ground out. At this rate, his teeth were going to be worn to nothing by the time they got back to Konoha.

It didn't help his pride that both Be-san and See-san both persisted in calling him Kakashi-kun, and Ay-san didn't bother with an honorific at all.

---

What diminished his desire to strangle Team Phoenix in their sleep was their obvious competence. Kakashi had been considered a prodigy in his own right, but seeing these three work made him begin to reconsider the Hokage's words. It simply wasn't possible for three year olds to work at that level of complex, strategic thought, not to mention emotional maturity.

He brought it up one night as they waited in their room in an inn just outside the city that held their target. Be-san and See-san were curled up on one of the beds together, Ay-san perched on the windowsill, while Kakashi sprawled on the floor by the door, but all three of them turned to look at him when he tentatively mentioned it.

After a moment, Ay-san said, voice devoid of his usual taunting, "Exactly. None of us were prodigies, not like you were."

"I was," Be-san put in, and See-san laughed. Kakashi wished he could see beneath their masks, and not for the first time. They never took them off, not even to eat or sleep, and Kakashi wore one of those masks himself on mission. He knew how difficult that was. Even when they had to go dressed as civilians for infiltrations, he had never seen them in the period between them taking off their masks and henging.

"Right, Be probably was," Ay-san said, and there was laughter in his voice. "And all of us were talented, but in general, we learnt the hard way. By –" here he checked himself, and changed what he was going to say, "by training hard and going on lots of missions, and generally working our arses off. You're way better at seventeen than-" he cut off abruptly. There were lots of things that Team Phoenix wouldn't talk about, and their past and identity was one of them.

"You'd have given him a run for his money, Ha- Ay, I mean," See-san said sleepily.

Be-san sighed. "And then this happened. And now look at us. Look at my hands," she bemoaned. "They're so tiny!"

Kakashi did look, and for the first time wondered what exactly had happened to them, and who they really were. He glanced at Ay-san, and saw him see Kakashi wondering. He couldn't see the expression on Ay-san's face, but he knew the tone when it came.

"But there are advantages," Ay-san said lightly. "After all, it means we get to play with our friend Hatake Kakashi, doesn't it?"

He lilted out the name as always, and Kakashi restrained himself from murder as Be-san and See-san snickered, having curled back up around each other.

Ay-san glanced out the window once more, then sprang down from the window sill, landing silently.

"Goodnight, comrades," he said to the two on the bed as he passed, then turned his attention to Kakashi. His dark grey mask and hair and clothes made him appear to disappear into the shadows, and sent a chill down Kakashi's spine. Ay-san only came up to Kakashi's knee, but he was as efficient a killer as Kakashi had ever seen.

It made Kakashi sad, and he didn't know why.

"Let's go, Kakashi," Ay-san said quietly to him as he passed. "We have routes to plot and people to find." He vanished out the door, and Kakashi followed without a word.

---

The mission went well, the target died, Rock Country had to begin looking for a new arms supplier, and Konoha was temporarily a safer place.

Both Kakashi and Team Phoenix were professionals, so it didn't really matter, but the man had been cruel and dishonourable, as well as an enemy. Kakashi liked it when the people he had to kill deserved it. They headed home with light hearts.

Kakashi took a scratch in the very last stage of the assassination, and afterwards, Ay-san carefully cleaned and bandaged it, small fingers nimble and sure.

"Good," Ay-san said, patting his arm once he finished. "Do try not to get hit next time, though. It's inconvenient." Kakashi sighed. Be-san and See-san were alright, but did Ay-san always have to be so condescending?

Demon-children. They were surely demon-children, if they were children at all. At least that thought salved his pride a little.

Somehow, when the Hokage took him aside privately after the mission ended and asked him whether he wanted to be replaced, he found himself saying 'no'. He was ashamed afterwards, and angry with himself. Was he so desperate for a team that he would take even Team Phoenix's mild contempt over solo missions?

He showed up to their next mission briefing, a week later, and almost fidgeted under Team Phoenix's steady regard. The Hokage looked highly amused.

Eventually, Ay-san nodded slightly. "Hatake Kakashi," he said soberly, with the same old lilt, and Kakashi thought he might be smiling beneath his mask. Kakashi bristled despite himself.

"Yo!" See-san said cheerfully, and Be-san gave him a nod.

Thrown off guard by this apparent friendliness, Kakashi only nodded back. It was only afterwards that he wondered if they had been testing him on the last mission, just as he had been testing them.

He was surprised that he was so pleased he had passed.

---

Nearly a year later, and a mission went wrong, as missions occasionally do. It was supposed to be a city-based infiltration, as were most of their missions, the Hokage having the sense not to risk four-year-olds on straight-out combat. No matter how strong and how fast they were, the height difference alone was a deadly disadvantage. They had to jump just to reach an enemy's throat.

Two days after their deadline, the plans they had been sent to destroy were destroyed, but they were retreating in disarray across the heavily wooded mountains that formed the border between Grass Country and Rain Country, Grass-nin in hot pursuit. They were going in the opposite direction of safety, because despite their exhaustion and injuries, the Hokage's words rang in all their minds: _while on mission, you are not shinobi of Konoha. Do not come to Konoha for aid. _

Kakashi drew deep, gasping breaths as he sprinted through the woods, still trying to remain as quiet as possible. There were three shinobi behind him, and he was already exhausted. The bandana he used to cover his eye in place of a hitai-ite while on these missions was long gone, and he kept that eye squeezed shut. He was already dizzy from overuse of his Sharingan. The blood loss wasn't helping either.

He stumbled on a root that seemed to come from nowhere, turned it into a roll, leapt, bounced off a tree, turned in the air and caught the Grass-nin who landed where Kakashi had been three seconds ago in the throat with a kunai. He landed, staggering a little, and that was all that was needed for a branch to come out of nowhere and knock him into a tree.

His head hit the trunk hard, and his vision went white for a second. Keeping himself out of unconsciousness by sheer force of will, he rolled clumsily, coming to his feet. The two Grass-nin were standing in the clearing, weapons ready.

_One of you has the plant-based bloodline limit,_ he thought to himself. He wasn't sure how logical his reasoning was at the moment, but he did his best. _The other has the poison._ For the first time since he was thirteen and his best friend had died, his heart skipped a beat and his breathing faltered.

_I'm going to die_, he thought, or felt, or believed. _So this is how it ends_. He staggered, falling to one knee. All his limbs were growing heavier by the minute, and his knife slipped out of nerveless fingers. _Shit_, he thought. _When did the poison-guy get me?_ His thinking was becoming increasingly disjointed. He saw the Grass-nins coming, but couldn't move. He fell.

Kakashi wasn't sure what happened next, but he was startled back to awareness by a gentle hand tilting his face. He lashed out instinctively, hitting something that made a grunt. The hand left his face abruptly.

After a moment, a familiar young voice said, "Hatake Kakashi. You really are troublesome, you know."

Kakashi managed to open his right eye enough to see the blurry form of Ay-san, crouched next to him, just out of striking range.

_It hurts_, he wanted to say, but all that came out of dry lips was a faint sound of pain.

Ay-san sighed. Reaching forward, he touched Kakashi gently on the temple. _"Consopio,"_ he whispered, and it was the last thing Kakashi heard.

---

Time passed, though Kakashi wasn't aware of it. He lay in grip of fever dreams and nightmares, sweating and trembling. The Hidden Village of Grass was notorious for its poisons. A scratch was often enough to kill a man, and Kakashi had had a full dose and more. He lay on the edge of death for many days.

Every now and then he would gather impressions of the real world – a snatch of quiet voice, the sensation of movement. Often, though, it was the feel of a cool hand against his bare face. When the pain was at its worst, and he could only wish helplessly for death, he turned his head into that hand and wept.

Slowly, the pain receded. One morning, Kakashi opened his eyes, and his mind felt cool and clear for the first time in what seemed like forever. He managed to lever himself up on one arm, though his body felt weak and trembly. Looking around, he saw that they were in a cave. He could see Ay-san and Be-san watching the small entrance to the cave intently, utterly still.

Kakashi opened his mouth to ask them what was going on, but a hand clamped over his mouth. He bit it reflexively, but the hand didn't move. Looking at the body it belonged too, he saw it was See-san. He grimaced apologetically, and See-san accepted it with a nod. Removing his hand from Kakashi's mouth, he held one finger to where his lips would have been if it weren't for his mask. Kakashi nodded in return.

Kakashi stayed still for as long as could, only lying down again when he thought his arm was about to give out on him. It was a long time after that that Ay-san finally nodded, and both Be-san and See-san relaxed. As one they all turned to Kakashi, but he was already tiring, and his eyed felt very heavy.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Hatake Kakashi," Ay said as mockingly as ever, but in his bone-tired state, Kakashi would swear it sounded like an endearment. He smiled, and fell asleep to the sound of See's laughter.

---

The next time Kakashi woke, he felt much stronger. This time Ay-san and Be-san where both moving about the cave, though he couldn't see See-san.

He managed to sit the whole way up this time. Be-san stopped immediately when she saw him.

"Kakashi-kun!" she said, sounding surprised. "When did you wake up?"

"Just-" his voice was hoarse and croaky, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Just then."

Be-san came over and began checking his bandages and his temperature. She moved briskly, but her hands were gentle. When she was satisfied, she nodded sharply.

"Good," she said. "Looks like you're on the mend. You should be able to move in a couple of days."

Kakashi frowned. "A couple of days? We can't afford that, not in the middle of Grass and Rain territory." He would have said more, but he was seized by a fit of coughing.

When he managed to straighten, he saw Be exchanging a look with Ay. Kakashi sat up straight.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"Time isn't an issue," Ay-san said after a brief hesitation.

"What?!" Kakashi exclaimed, his voice rising. "Are you crazy?"

An extremely unimpressed look from Ay-san silenced him. Kakashi took a deep breath, calmed himself, and tried again.

"Why is time not an issue?" he asked more politely. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to like the answer.

He didn't. "You were out for quite a while," Be-san said quietly. "We've made a long-term camp, so we'll just have to wait for the search to die down before moving."

Kakashi stared at her. "You made – what? What are you- how long was I out for?"

"A week and a half," Ay said calmly.

"_What?_!"

Ay and Be sighed in unison. "I don't know what went wrong," Ay said to Be. "He used to be such a quiet, obedient boy."

Be snorted. "Only to you. He sure never listens to See and I."

Kakashi flushed with embarrassment, then realised he wasn't wearing his mask and both of them could see, and turned even pinker. Ay snickered, and Be laughed outright.

Finally Ay took pity on him. "Don't worry. It's a credit to your strength that you're alive at all. And to Be's potions, of course."

"Why?" Kakashi asked. "Was it poison?"

Both Ay and Be nodded. "Designed for a slow and painful death," Be said soberly, all humour lost.

Kakashi refused to be distracted. "You should have left me," he said stubbornly. "It was my fault-"

"Kakashi-kun," Be said coolly, "we don't leave team mates behind. I'll thank you not to suggest it again."

"Which reminds me, Kakashi," Ay said. "Once you're well, we're going to have a little talk about taking on more than your fair share of opponents."

Kakashi blinked, startled. Seeing it, Ay elaborated. "There were ten enemies in that group. Not only did you manage to draw away four of them, you took the two strongest as well. Now, I know you're supposed to be the combat specialist, but do try to leave a few for the rest of us, okay?"

Kakashi was preparing to say something defensive, when he realised that there was no rebuke in the tone. He glanced at Ay, and meeting his dark eyes through the holes in his mask, saw for a moment Ay's true heart. What he saw there left him breathless. There was gentle laughter, self-deprecation and concern, but above all, there was a warmth and a fondness there when he looked at Kakashi. Kakashi wondered how he could have missed it before.

Ay looked away after a moment, and Kakashi felt something uncurl in his chest, a weight he hadn't realised was there. _So, you're saying I didn't let you down,_ he mentally translated from Ay-speak into human-speak. It was something of an epiphany. How long had there been this subtext to Ay's chiding that Kakashi hadn't understood?

Kakashi opened his mouth then closed it again, feeling a surge of unidentifiable emotion.

_Get a hold of yourself_, he chided, feeling lost amid the rush of complex emotions. _You're a shinobi. Emotions are a weakness._

"You killed those two Grass-nin, didn't you?" he asked instead of what he had been going to say.

Ay hesitated, then nodded. Kakashi was glad, because that gave him an excuse for what he wanted to do. With some difficulty, he managed to get his legs under him so he was kneeling properly, facing Ay.

He placed his hands on the ground, and bowed until his forehead was pressed to the cold stone. He heard Be-san's sharp intake of breath, but didn't move.

"Thank you," he said simply, and hoped that Ay understood that it was not just for saving his life. It was an apology as well. He wanted to say, _I understand that you are not what you seem to be_, or, _I've treated you very badly_, or, _I won't fail you again_, but he still had some pride, so he kept his silence.

A hand resting on his hair startled him out of his thoughts, and Ay sighed. "I understand," he said, sounding long-suffering. Kakashi smiled, despite himself.

"Now get up," Ay said abruptly, removing his hand. Kakashi slowly pushed himself up, wincing as his body protested. Ay gave him a narrow look. "Be, check him over," he ordered, and said to Kakashi, "If you've aggravated your wounds, you'll be in big trouble. And lie down, for god's sake."

_That means 'I'm worried about you'_, Kakashi translated, still amazed at how badly he could have misunderstood the situation. He realised he had a slightly giddy smile on his face.

Ay was shaking his head as he helped Kakashi lie down, and Be looked a little as if the world had fallen down about her ears. "You are going to be so embarrassed once you're not sick any more and can think clearly about this," Ay said.

Kakashi kept smiling. He didn't really care.

---

Ay was both right and wrong. Kakashi was embarrassed, but only about the being as giddy as a girl in love part. He felt much better once he had his mask back on and he was no longer exposed to the gazes of the world.

Overall, Kakashi was feeling more light-hearted than he had in months. He hadn't realised how much Ay's perceived dislike of him had been weighing him down.

Ay, Be and See also seemed more cheerful. Kakashi and See had been collecting firewood when See had brought it up, in the mild tone that Kakashi knew meant trouble.

"So, I hear you've finally come to your senses," See opened.

"Have I?" Kakashi returned, equally mildly.

"Mm. Regarding Ay, that is. On all other topics, you're still as wrongheaded as ever."

"Oh, am I?" Kakashi said uninterestedly, taking a look at the sky.

"So, now that you've given up on the 'I won't take orders from children' line, does that mean you're going to be more respectful to Be and I?"

"I'm always respectful, See-san," Kakashi lied through his teeth. Luckily, See had never cared. In fact, he usually seemed glad for the chance to argue with someone, though they never fought in front of Ay.

"Sure, sure, Kakashi-kun," See said mildly. "Oh, by the way, I notice you've taken to calling Ay 'Ay-sama'."

Kakashi twitched a bit at that. "Have you?"

"Yes, I heard the screaming," See replied, and Kakashi outright winced.

Kakashi hadn't intended to call Ay 'Ay-sama'. It had just slipped out, but he meant it. It seemed somehow… rude to call him Ay-san, just like Be-san and See-san. After all, the circumstances were completely different.

Unfortunately, Ay seemed entirely doubtful as to Kakashi's sincerity, and entirely unimpressed by the title. It was a constant irritation to him.

Really, if Kakashi had known before that it would irritate Ay so much, he'd have been 'Ay-sama' since the day they met.

With a sigh, he dropped the banter long enough to ask See seriously, "Is it okay? I mean, you know Ay better… He's so confusing. Is he really angry?"

See scratching his head thoughtfully. Kakashi liked See. He was a bit rough and ready sometimes, but you could always count on him for a straight answer. "Has he outright ordered you to stop?" he asked.

Kakashi ran back through past conversations. "No."

See shrugged. "Then you're under no obligation. Do as you like. My impression is that he doesn't like it, but he thinks you've earned the right to call him whatever you want."

"Even 'bastard' or 'worthless son of a whore'?" Kakashi said without thinking, then looked at See warily.

See snorted. "Well, I do, on a regular basis. You'd better be prepared for a fight though." He shouldered his burden of wood easily. It was nearly twice the size of him, and Kakashi blinked. See's strength always surprised him.

He followed in See's wake with his own wood, thinking about their conversation. "I've never heard you insult Ay-sama," he said.

See suddenly laughed. "That's cause you've always been around, and you and Ay were pretending not to be fighting," he said, sounding positively gleeful. "Oh man, I hadn't realised. Now we can have some real fun."

See's idea of fun seemed to be sneaking up on Ay and bowling him over from behind, because that was what he did when they got back to camp.

"Hey, hey," he said, from his position on top of Ay. "Guess what? Now that Kakashi's decided to be good, we don't have to play nice anymore!"

"Oh. Good," Ay said flatly.

"Oh, by the way," said See cheerfully, "you're a bastard and a worthless son of a whore."

There was a pause. "I'll kill you," said Ay.

As Kakashi watched the brawl from the edge of the clearing, mouth open, he thought that perhaps being on bad terms with Ay had been the safer option.

* * *

A/N: Hmm, long chapter. Kakashi has eaten my brain, as you can see. There'll be one more chapter of his PoV before we _finally_ get to a Trio PoV. And thank you very much for all the reviews! They've definitely made me want to write more. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It wasn't long after that relations between Fire Country and the combined alliance of Thunder Country and Grass Country became frosty, and Team Phoenix and Kakashi found themselves run off their feet.

For a period Kakashi found himself taken off his normal ANBU duties and assigned to Team Phoenix full time. When the political tension eased, Kakashi returned to normal duties, and suddenly he was seeing far less of Team Phoenix than he had in months.

Perhaps it was subconsciously because of that that he asked at the end of one of his infrequent Team Phoenix missions,

"Say, what do you all do about training? You don't train at the ANBU or jounin grounds…"

"We're not Anbu _or_ jounin," they chorused, then looked at each other and laughed. They were sitting in their meeting room under the Hokage's monument, waiting for Hokage to arrive.

"So what do you do?" Kakashi asked, honestly curious. He had found the superior quality of the higher ranked training grounds very helpful when he was first promoted.

They looked at each other again, and shrugged.

"We just… practice," Be answered.

"Why does it matter where?" See asked.

"But things like disarming traps, or dodging projectiles… The jounin training grounds have special machines so shinobi can practice those skills without being hurt. The technique library is very good, too."

"Oh, really?" "Really?" Be and See said over the top of each other.

Kakashi looked from one to the other. "You didn't know?"

Both Be and See looked away, muttering to themselves. Kakashi looked at Ay, who was still looking vaguely disinterested.

"Ay-sama? Did you know?"

"Eh? Oh, no. We're not jounins, after all. We're not even genins. We don't have access to that sort of resource. And don't call me Ay-sama," he added as an afterthought.

Kakashi ignored the reproach as always, and his eyes narrowed. "That doesn't seem fair," he said slowly. "You're doing the job of an Anbu, without any of the rewards."

Team Phoenix didn't seem too worried about it, but Kakashi brought it up with the Hokage after their debriefing anyway. The Hokage looked thoughtful.

"That's true," he said. "It would be terrible if some flaw in Phoenix's training led to an injury or death."

"Hokage-sama, quality of training can't be judged solely on the equipment available," Ay protested.

"No, but it is inefficient for you to have to work harder than necessary to achieve your training targets," the Hokage said gently.

None of Team Phoenix replied, but Kakashi had the impression that they weren't very happy about the way this was going.

"Kakashi-san," Sandaime said. "I believe you are right on this occasion. I will give Team Phoenix access to the jounin training grounds. They have the greatest diversity of resources, I believe."

Ay sighed silently. Kakashi could only tell by the slight fall of his shoulders.

"_However_," the Hokage said sternly. "I will grant permission only under certain circumstances. Firstly, you will train masked and in full battle outfit, and... be discreet, alright? Try not to let people see you."

All three of them nodded obediently, and the Hokage continued. "Secondly, you will not train with Kakashi-san."

Team Phoenix exclaimed various variations of "What?!" Be straightened, looking outraged.

The Hokage cut her off before she could protest further. "Be, Hatake Kakashi is a well-known Konoha ninja. To the best of our knowledge, he hasn't yet been associated with Team Phoenix, and he must not be."

"Hokage-sama, it is far too risky to train in public at all," Ay said quietly.

The Hokage shook his head. "Earlier, yes, it would have been, but it's impossible to keep a team like you entirely secret. Konoha's higher ranking ninjas know of the existence of a top-secret assassination team, who look like children but aren't and wear nothing but grey. In fact, I believe a number of our major rivals are also aware of that information."

Ay leant forward suddenly. "You didn't tell us that," he said harshly.

"I have no proof," the Hokage replied equally sharply. They stared at each other, and the spiritual pressure in the room froze Kakashi to his seat.

Finally, Ay said, "If our secrecy has been compromised…"

"I know," the Hokage replied simply. "There may come a time when the dangers of keeping you in the field outweigh the benefits. Until then, you will simply have to be especially careful not to be seen."

They continued staring at each other, and Kakashi had the sense that there was another, more private conversation happening right before his eyes.

The Hokage sighed, and seemed to age before Kakashi's eyes. "My boy," he said softly, "I know what this has cost you, but I would not ask if there was any other way."

After a moment, Ay sat back, and the tension slowly eased. "I know, Professor," he said, and there was an old, deep sorrow in his voice that Kakashi had never heard from him before. "Maybe it's selfish of me, but I don't think I could bear to lose another friend."

Be and See shuffled their chairs closer to Ay so they their arms bumped again Ay's. Kakashi sat back in his chair and folded his arms. He would rather die than admit it, but he often felt excluded when Team Phoenix began to talk about their past, or various other issues he wasn't considered worthy of being told about.

Kakashi's mouth quirked bitterly, but it was directed as much at himself as at his team-mates. _What are you, twelve?_ he took himself to task. _Get a hold of yourself._

By chance, Kakashi happened to glance up at the Hokage, who was watching Team Phoenix huddle together. There was something in his eyes that Kakashi couldn't quite place. Secrets, perhaps. With a side of guilt.

Kakashi shook his head abruptly. For one thing, he was probably imagining things, and even if he wasn't, it was none of his business.

He stood, getting the Hokage's attention. Team Phoenix remained wrapped up in their own, dysfunctional little world.

"If there's nothing else…" Kakashi hinted heavily.

"Eh? Oh, yes. Thankyou for your hard work, Kakashi-san," the Hokage dismissed him, and Kakashi was gone.

As he ghosted over the rooftops, he smiled a little at the thought of what awaited him at home. He had been halfway through the latest book in the _Icha Icha_ series when he was called away on mission, and he thought Be-san might actually kill him if he ever took one of his large collection of adult novels on a mission with him.

Kakashi smiled wistfully at the thought. It would almost be worth it just to hear the shock in her voice. Almost. The smile slipped off his face and he shivered a little.

Then he abandoned all thoughts of the endlessly complicated Team Phoenix in favour of highly detailed imaginings of the pleasures that awaited him at home.

--

The next few days were blessedly quiet, and Kakashi threw himself into his usual off-mission routine of sleeping, reading perverted novels, visiting the memorial stone, annoying his subordinates and terrifying his colleagues, avoiding that green-clad freak's challenges and sleeping some more.

Oh, and training occasionally. When he got round to it.

With all the fun things around to do in Konoha, that last conversation with the Hokage slipped to the back of his mind, and so he was as surprised as anyone when three small masked and grey-clad figures showed up one of the smaller, more obscure jounin training grounds.

There were only a couple of other jounins there - one doing agility training, one eating lunch under a tree - but Kakashi still felt uneasy. Perhaps it was just seeing Team Phoenix in an area he associated with his public life, not his private one, but Kakashi's uneasiness increased when the man who had been doing agility training stopped and moved towards them, wiping the sweat off his face.

"Who are you?" he asked, with the deliberate absence of aggression that any ninja worth their salt would recognise as a threat. Kakashi was pleased to see that Ay, Be and See all looked fairly relaxed. See in particular had a tendency to take threats as a personal challenge, and if See got into a fight, Ay and Be would join in, and then the poor jounin was on a fast-track to a hospital bed.

The other jounin, a large Akimichi woman who was one of Kakashi's kouhai in ANBU, had stood up and now came over with a slight swagger to her step that meant in ninja language, 'I'm the strongest person here.'

Apparently she hadn't seen Kakashi, who had admittedly been quietly practicing chakra manipulation in a tree on the other side of the training grounds. If he hadn't been more concerned that Phoenix were about to start a fight and break their cover, he'd have taken Akimichi up on the challenge.

"What pretty masks," she said, smiling like the wolf that howls its challenge at the hurricane. "Are you on your way to a birthday party? But," and she paused with false doubt, "I'm not sure you have the right to wear them. How about you take them off?" Kakashi sighed silently. He was going to have to speak to her later about this. Just because she'd made it to veteran status didn't mean she knew everything, and picking fights with strange shinobi was a sure way to get yourself killed.

See had shifted minutely into a more combat ready stance, but Be spoke before the situation could degenerate further. "Hokage-sama gave us permission to train here," she said in her clear, piping voice, and Kakashi realised with a start just how young she sounded. Somehow, as he discovered how old they were in mind, he had forgotten just how young they were in body. Be pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to the first jounin.

The jounin took his time scrutinising it, and Akimichi grew impatient. "Give it here, idiot," she snapped, and snatched it out of his hands. She spent far less time examining it than the jounin had before she said loudly, "Honorary jounin status? Has the old man finally lost it? Will we make a babe-in-arms Hokage next?"

Kakashi could see from the tense lines of all three of Phoenix's member's bodies that this was not going to end well, and decided that this would be a wise time to intervene. "Actually, wasn't Sandaime-sama a jounin by the time he was six?" he asked thoughtfully and loudly enough to carry across the field.

Akimichi swung round, and her body language straightened into something far more polite and neutral. "Senpai," she said, with creditable composure, "I didn't realise you were here."

"No, I didn't think you had," Kakashi replied blandly.

"We have permission," Ay-sama broke into their staring contest to say, and Kakashi nearly winced at the deadness of his tone. He wouldn't presume to say that he understood Ay, but he did know him well enough to know that that was the tone he took when he had packed up his heart in a little box and hidden somewhere where no one could touch it.

Kakashi had only ever heard it on duty before. He didn't like what it said about this situation that Ay felt he had to hide himself like that.

"The Hokage gave us permission," Ay repeated. "If you have a problem with that, I'm sure he would be happy to hear your complaint."

"So you say," the Anbu said, swinging back to sneer at them. "You brats probably forged this."

"Excuse me?" Be and See asked in eerie tandem, See's hand creeping to his weapon pouch. Ay seemed to be looking at the sky, a _very_ bad sign.

"You heard me, you freaks," the Anbu replied, and Kakashi was moving even before she attacked. Even his fastest body flicker was too slow. By the time he arrived at the scene the Anbu was on the ground with six of Be and See's kunai in various non-vital but painful points of her body. Kakashi did arrive in time to catch the kunai that Ay had lazily thrown at her throat before it killed her, though.

"I apologise on her behalf," he told them, more for the jounins' benefit than theirs.

"Is that so?" Ay replied so blandly that Kakashi nearly flinched. He had bad memories of that tone. "Do you suppose you could do us the favour of leaving, though? We'd like to use this training ground. And she might want medical attention," he added as an afterthought.

"Of course," Kakashi said easily, and glanced over his shoulder at the male jounin, a man he'd never spoken to before. "You don't mind, do you?"

The man looked about to protest, but sighed and bowed his head. "No, Hatake-san."

Together, they managed to lift Akimichi and carry her out of the training grounds, ignoring her pained cursing. Once they were out of earshot, the man asked quietly, "Who were they?"

"I don't know," Kakashi said, completely truthfully. "Those masks mean they're one of the teams we're not supposed to talk about. So," he stopped and dropped Akimichi on the ground. She cried out in pain and glared at him. "Let's get this straight," he told her. "You were injured in a training accident."

"Like hell I was!"

"That's right. I was just trying to spare my reputation. I injured you, cruelly and maliciously," Kakashi said, and leant down, pulling out a kunai and stabbing her in the arm before she knew what was happening. "Any more questions?"

She was too busy gasping in shock and pain to answer, which Kakashi chose to take as a 'no'. He looked at the man, who quickly held up his hands in surrender.

"Hatake-san, I'm only a Special Jounin. If you tell me I didn't see anything, I didn't see anything."

"Good man," Kakashi murmured. "You can work for me any day."

--

Later, he couldn't resist asking permission to see Team Phoenix. He rationalised that he wanted to make sure they were fine, but really it was more curiosity. He'd never seen their off-duty quarters, and, well. Inquiring minds want to know.

The Hokage agreed to take Kakashi to them, looking half annoyed and half amused. They walked down through the maze-like tunnels under the Hokage's mountain together, Kakashi looking round in amazement.

"I didn't realise these tunnels were so extensive," he said. "I've never been below the first level."

"Hmm. This is all completely confidential, of course," the Hokage said around his pipe, and Kakashi nodded an affirmative. "The first level is for Anbu use. The second and third levels are for the Anbu Commanders' use. The fourth, fifth and sixth levels are for the Hokage's use alone."

"Why are Ay-sama, Be-san and See-san here then?"

"They are one of my secrets," the Hokage shrugged. "Here is the safest place for them."

"I see," Kakashi said noncommittally, and the Hokage smiled.

"I'm glad they have you to look after them," he said gently.

Kakashi snorted, embarrassed at being caught. "As if those brats need anyone to look after them."

The twinkle in the Hokage's eyes was positively blinding.

Finally, they arrived at a door on the fifth level, and the Hokage stopped. Kakashi looked around. There was nothing to distinguish the place from a hundred other doors he'd seen.

He went to open the door, but the Hokage put a hand on his arm.

"Wait, Hatake-san. Let me go in first. They've never had any visitor but me here, so they might overreact if they're not warned."

Kakashi nodded and stepped back along the corridor, and watched as the Hokage knocked, then entered the room at some signal Kakashi couldn't hear.

Kakashi waited. And waited. By the time the Hokage emerged, he was slouched against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets, wishing he had brought a book.

"You can go in now," the Hokage said. "I've asked them to escort you out when you're finished - I suggest you stick closely to them."

Kakashi's eyebrows rose. "I… see," he said. The Hokage nodded.

"Have fun," he said, and sighed.

"Thank you, Hokage-sama," Kakashi murmured, suppressing the urge to laugh, and pushed the door open.

The corridors on the way down here had been dark and dingy, and Kakashi had been expecting something similar of the room. Instead, it was large and filled with natural light coming from a large window in one of the walls. One wall was covered in weapons, and another in books and scrolls.

The floor was polished wood, and was occupied only by a low table and a number of comfortable looking cushions. In all, the room was a very pleasant surprise. It looked like someone's home.

The silence stretched out. Slowly, Kakashi dragged his eye up from his close inspection of the floor.

Sprawled on one of the cushions was one of Team Phoenix, masked but in casual clothing, and Kakashi hesitated, thrown by the incongruous sight.

"I'm See," the boy said dryly, and Kakashi relaxed at the familiar voice.

"That's an interesting outfit," he said, pointedly looking See up and down.

"I didn't want to bother about the masks, but noooo, security is paramount, what rot. As if you're going to blab."

"I'm the very soul of discretion," Kakashi said, even as Be poked her head out the door.

"I heard that, you despicable creature. Are you looking for a fight? Because I warn you, there's still time to poison the tea."

"It was a joke, a joke," See said, sounding put-upon. When Be disappeared back into the kitchen, he whispered to Kakashi, "Do you reckon we'd know the difference?"

Kakashi threw himself backwards as a frying pan whistled past See at very high velocity, driving itself into the wall and remaining there.

"Holy _shit_," See said with feeling, and Kakashi nodded his agreement, heart pounding like he'd just escaped sudden death. Which, he supposed, he had. "I didn't mean it," he called into the kitchen. "I take it back and apologise from the bottom of my cowardly heart."

Just then the door at the back of the room was pulled open and Ay appeared. He looked at Kakashi, and then at the frying pan, still embedded in the wall. "Who's telling the Hokage about that?"

"_No one_," Be and See said in fervent unison, as Be appeared in the doorway carrying a tray with a teapot and cups. "Are you mad?" Be asked.

"I'll fix it myself," See said. "There is absolutely no reason at all for the old man to know about such minor, petty property damage." He was waving his hands around for emphasis.

"Definitely no reason," Be said. "Anyway, See should have caught it. It just slipped out of my hand. It was an accident, that's all."

Ay sighed, and sat down next to Kakashi as Be started to unload the tray. "Sarutobi has started docking our pay for property damage," he told Kakashi. "The problem is, well - you know they way he _looks_ at you when you do something wrong?"

Kakashi nodded. "Makes you feel like you're four and just swore at your grandmother, doesn't he?"

"_God_, yes," Be said, setting a cup of tea in front of Kakashi. "It's even worse than- well, he's only got better at it over the years, that's all I'm saying."

Kakashi smiled, and took a sip of his tea. When he looked up, See was watching him closely. He glanced at Be, then back at Kakashi, and stage-whispered, "Poison?"

_How would I know?_ Kakashi almost said, then thought of the frying pan and reconsidered it. "Not that I can tell."

"Oh, I wouldn't poison Kakashi-kun," Be said sweetly. "Now, _you_, beloved of my heart..."

Ay sighed again. "Anyway, what brings you here, Kakashi?

"Curiousity," Kakashi said bluntly. "I wanted to see where you lived, and today seemed like a good excuse."

Ay glanced over at him, then patted him kindly on the shoulder with his small hand. "It's good that you're looking out for us."

Kakashi gave him a chagrined look. "What- oh, forget it. What was going on today? Without meaning any disrespect..."

"Yeah, yeah, don't scold," See said impatiently.

"I wasn't-" Kakashi said, holding up his hands in surrender.

"We've discussed it, and-" Be was cut off by Ay, who said shortly,

"My fault. Sorry."

"It wasn't an accusation," Kakashi said helplessly, feeling way out of his depth.

"Well, you had to cover for us, so you've every right to complain." Be said, stealing back control of the conversation from Ay. "We should have avoided the situation in the first place, and we shouldn't have attacked that woman."

"Even if she was fucking annoying," See muttered.

"Even if she was the devil. So I apologise," Ay said firmly, "and I'm very grateful you caught my kunai. I'd rather not have murder on my record."

"She'd have probably caught it herself - she's normally a pretty solid ninja. It's just that her temper gets the better of her," Kakashi found himself saying, defending her despite the fact that he'd never really liked her himself.

See sighed. He was swirling the tea around in his cup, staring into it as if trying to see the future. "Say, Kakashi, do you ever see our team stats? Team Phoenix's stats, I mean?"

"No," Kakashi said. "Why?"

See shrugged and looked at Be, who took another sip of her tea before saying, "Our efficiency rating has been dropping for the last six months. The Hokage- well, he's a great man, but he'd like to see an improvement. And so would we."

Kakashi sat back. The last six months... he hadn't noticed any difference himself, except that missions had been harder. "Perhaps people are just more prepared for us, or the general difficulty of the missions is higher."

"Perhaps we've lost our edge," Ay suggested in return.

"Ay-sama, do you really believe that?" Kakashi demanded.

"I do, actually. And don't call me Ay-sama."

Kakashi smiled at the automatic rebuke. "I don't. My mission performance in ANBU is as good as ever - I was even considered for promotion the last time a Commander's position came open."

"You didn't tell us that!" Be exclaimed. "Congratulations!"

"No, I didn't get it," Kakashi waved the congratulations off wryly. "But they wouldn't have considered me if my performance was down."

Ay cleared his throat. "You know, I don't think anyone's suggesting that y_our_ performance was the problem."

Kakashi paused, and looked around the low table. All three members of Team Phoenix were avoiding his eyes. "What are you saying? You're retiring?"

That earned various shrugs and sighs. "Who knows," See said, leaning his chin on his hand. "It's just so frustrating, to _know_ you're not performing at your best and-"

"-not know why," Be finished. "And yet... it's almost like I don't _want_ to improve. Does that sound crazy?"

"No," See said, sitting up straight, "no, I feel the same way! It's bizarre, isn't it? You know, half way through the Yurenaka mission, when it turned out the guy was a decoy? For a moment I thought, god, let's just go home. Isn't that terrible of me?"

"Some days I just don't see the point," Be said, slouching down over the table. "Every mission feels like the same thing all over again, and all the people we kill look the same." She trailed off, and no one immediately filled the silence.

Kakashi looked at Ay, who hadn't said anything so far. He was sitting cross-legged, leaning back on his hands and staring at the ceiling. "Ay-sama?"

"What's your disciplinary record like, Kakashi?" Ay asked abruptly.

Kakashi blinked. "Recently? Pretty good. I had the classic new-jounin attitude problems for a while, and then I fucked up the first mission I led, so that was even worse. But my captain came down pretty hard on me when I was a rookie in ANBU, and my record's been clean since."

"How long ago was that?" Be asked, momentarily distracted from her dark mood by curiosity.

"I joined when I was fifteen, so... five years?"

"And have you ever tried to kill someone?" Ay asked, undettered from his line of thought.

Kakashi winced. "Once, when I was very young and foolish, and even though someone stopped me I got in a shit load of trouble. Beating a ninja up is one thing, but killing them? That'll get you arrested fast enough."

Ay sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that. What the hell has gotten into me?"

Kakashi looked at him steadily, and for a long moment no one spoke. Eventually Kakashi said, "How long have you been active?"

Ay turned his head slightly to look at Kakashi. "Active?"

"You know, on active duty. With Team Phoenix."

Ay glanced at Be and See. "Three? Four years?"

"Without a break?"

Ay stared at him. "What, like a holiday? This isn't exactly a nine-til-five."

"In ANBU you get three years on, one year off. You can count sick leave as time off, and you can break the year up and take it in smaller chunks over the three years, but you have to take it."

Ay laughed incredulously. "Are you saying you think we need a _vacation?_ Shall we pop off to a beach somewhere and ogle the women?"

"You wanna try?" Be muttered, but See said,

"You know, he has a point. If you count beforehand, we did about eight years straight, without so much as a week off. And then we came here, and it was all train, train, fight, fight. Maybe we do need a break - some time to sort our heads out, if nothing else."

Ay exchanged a look with See, one of those looks which Kakashi knew were perfectly capable of conveying entire battle plans. "Hmph," Ay said, and picked up his tea again. "We can discuss it later, anyway."

That sort of killed the conversation, but after a while Kakashi ventured to say, "Eight years?"

"Shut up, Kakashi," they replied in unison.

Kakashi sighed. _Remind me why I like these people again?_

* * *

_A/N: rewritten 29 August 2008 to get rid of cringe-worthiness and overwhelming character stupidity. And some spelling mistakes._

* * *

**Bonus:**

Hermione glanced up from her book as Ron bounded in the door, a scowl already forming on her face.

"Sakura-chan, Sakura-chan," he was yelling, "check out my new, ultra-awesome technique! It's original!"

"Original?" she asked. Ron nodded, a look in his eye that meant he knew she was going to go ballistic and couldn't wait, then formed a handseal.

"Watch! _Sexy no jutsu!" _he said, and when the smoke cleared, there was a beautiful, naked blonde woman standing in his place, blowing her a kiss.

Hermione's eye twitched. Then she punched the girl across the room. The girl poofed back into Ron when she hit the wall, and Hermione ignored his loud complaints in favour of staring into the distance at something only she could see.

After a moment, she nodded to herself. "Kakashi," she said thoughtfully. "You're a dead man."

In his apartment on the other side of Konoha, a shiver ran down Kakashi's back. He glanced around, frowned, then shrugged and returned to his novel. It was probably just a breeze, he told himself firmly, and equally firmly repressed the desire to take a long and extended vacation somewhere very far from here.

When Hermione caught up to him, he really wished he hadn't.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Harry sighed, and kicked his feet as they waited for the Hokage. That conversation with Kakashi had lingering in the back of his mind, growing into an unhappy certainty. It didn't show so much during the espionage parts of their missions, but he found himself holding back in combat, wondering if he really needed to kill his enemies. He felt sick when he had to kill a civilian. The faces of those he killed had once again begun to haunt his dreams.

It was that, more than anything, that had brought this decision upon them. Hermione and Ron had been doubtful about giving up their work at first. Harry could understand. He'd killed Professor Quirrel when he was eleven, and spent the next seventeen years fighting a losing war. Even their final victory had been pyrrhic.

Then they'd been sent to this relatively kind, peaceful world, a world where war was waged between countries, between armies, not between brother and brother, husband and wife. None of them had known what to do. Harry hadn't been sure he was even capable of trusting strangers anymore. They'd been fighting so long they didn't know how to do anything else.

And yet, this wasn't their old world, and the killing they were doing now wasn't like killing Death Eaters. Without the pressure of war, of necessity, to force them onwards, their team was starting to fall apart.

Harry felt Hermione's scolding through the blood and magic bond that had held them together even after death. It wasn't strong enough for them to speak through, but Harry knew his friends better than he knew himself. They didn't need words to communicate.

Hermione was telling him to stop brooding, and Harry sent back wordless assurance. Ron chimed in by sending the image of them all drinking cocktails on a tropical beach, conveying that they were due for a holiday, and they all laughed aloud. Then Harry sent them the gentle mental nudge that meant, 'go away and let me think', and they obediently turned their attention elsewhere.

Harry found himself still smiling as he looked around the office, looking for something to relieve his boredom. No matter how angry or distressed Ron or Hermione were at the time, Harry loved the impression of their thoughts he felt through the bond. It wasn't much, not enough to distract him unless they were trying to get his attention, but it was enough to remind Harry that he wasn't alone.

Of course, that was why he had been so completely unable to deal with Ron's death. It had been like losing a part of himself. No, it was worse than that. It was losing someone else who he loved, who was also part of himself, and Harry had been so very glad to die. His only sorrow had been that he was leaving Hermione behind. He still felt guilty about it, although she hadn't been left behind for long. She had lasted ten hours after him. She had buried Ron and Harry, organised the survivors, chosen one of them as the leader, burned the last of their possessions and gone out to find the largest and most dangerous group of Death Eaters she could.

She was dead by dawn. So were the Death Eaters.

It probably wasn't healthy. No, Harry _knew_ it wasn't healthy. That was why they tried very hard to maintain individual and separate relationships with outsiders. Hermione was very fond of her new parents, although they didn't understand her at all. Half the younger children in Konoha idolised Ron, much to all of their bemusement – especially Ron's. Harry had enormous respect for Dumbledore, and loved his new clan despite their flaws, and although he would never admit it, he was rather fond of their ever-so-reluctant teammate Kakashi, too.

All of which brought him back to the subject of this coming meeting. Harry sighed, and rubbed his forehead.

Finally, the door swung open silently, and Dumbledore entered with a weary groan. Harry gave him a sympathetic look.

"That bad, old man?" Ron asked from where he was sprawled over one of the chairs.

"Not bad, so much as tiring," Dumbledore said frankly, taking off his formal hat as he sat down. "Your father has been particularly difficult of late," he said with a nod to Harry.

Harry grimaced in response. "He's been on his mettle ever since Itachi joined the Anbu," he said, and Dumbledore nodded. "How's nii-san doing, anyway?"

"Now, now," Dumbledore reproached, eyes twinkling. "You know that sort of information is confidential."

"You wouldn't even need to give it to us. If you'd just let us _steal_ it," Hermione put in, giving Dumbledore a meaningful look. "We're professionals. No one would ever know."

"I would appreciate it if you would contain your professional endeavours to our enemies," Dumbledore said dryly. "Don't tell me you're bored already?"

At this, Harry, Hermione and Ron exchanged glances.

Harry spoke for all of them. "Well, that's sort of what we wanted to talk about."

Dumbledore straightened, clasping his hands on the desk and giving them his full and undivided attention. "You _are_ bored?"

Hermione sighed. "Not exactly – the opposite, in fact. You probably haven't seen us on missions enough to notice, but…" she grimaced, searching for a tactful way to put it.

"Harry's getting more trigger-happy by the day," Ron said bluntly.

"So are you, moron," Harry snapped back reflexively. "I saw what you did to those Rain-nin last month." His mouth snapped shut with a click, and all three of them looked away at the memory.

That had not been a mission any of them were proud of. It had been an assassination, which was never fun, but by the end it had become a bloodbath. As a team, they prided themselves on being professionals. They made use of comprehensive information gathering to ensure swift, painless and efficient completion of missions.

That mission had been none of those. Unforeseen complications had thrown out their plans, but instead of remaining calm and collected, they had lost their tempers and their calm and had been lucky not to lose their heads. Literally. A lot of people had died who didn't have to, and Harry _hated_ having blood on his hands. Even Kakashi, normally the most laid-back of teammates, had been wild-eyed and on edge.

Team Phoenix was falling apart, and that was something none of them could bear.

"I… see," Dumbledore said slowly.

"We thought it might be time to retire," Harry finally came out and said it, and they all waited with baited breath for the Hokage's reaction.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair. He didn't seem angry, or even surprised, so much as thoughtful. Worried.

"And Konoha's pretty strong at the moment," Ron said with painful earnestness. "We definitely wouldn't leave if we were needed." And it was true, if only because _Ron_ would never abandon Konoha, and Harry and Hermione, who were less emotionally attached to it, would never leave Ron.

Harry couldn't explain it. How had Ron, who was treated like shit by all and sundry just because that bastard Yondaime had cursed him to live with a demon inside of him for the rest of his life, developed such a deep, fierce loyalty to the village that scorned him?

Harry had asked, more than once, and so had Hermione. All Ron had said was, "Don't be so hard on the Yondaime, will you? _The only people who have the right to sacrifice others for a cause are those who would die for it themselves,"_ he had quoted Harry's words from years ago back at him. Harry had been defending Professor Dumbledore when he said it, and the reminder had been enough to silence him.

Ron's first memory was of the Kyuubi being sealed into him, and the Yondaime's death. Apparently it had made an impression of him.

Harry didn't care. If the Yondaime weren't already dead, he'd kill the man himself for daring to hurt his friend like that.

Harry was brought back to the present by Dumbledore's sigh. "And if you did retire, what would you do?"

Ron, Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.

"Well, we sort of thought we might go travel for a while," Ron said a little sheepishly. "It's not very useful, but I think we all need some time to sort ourselves out. Figure out who we want to be, you know?"

"Yeah, and espionage doesn't leave much time for sight-seeing," Hermione added. "We're in a new world, and I don't know anything about it!"

"Except, apparently, _everything_," Ron said under his breath.

"We also want to look for magical foci," Harry said quietly, silencing the budding argument between Ron and Hermione. "Jutsu are the best for battle, but they just don't have the range and precision of spells. And to cast most spells…"

"You need wands," Dumbledore finished this time. "Oh, I know. Appropriate foci are far more difficult to obtain here, but it can be done." He produced his wand and laid it on the desk, giving it a fond look. "I didn't realise how lucky I was at the time to find a yuki-onna who was willing to part with a hair - and even that... well, you've used my wand. You know how difficult it is."

They'd all tried Dumbledore's wand, and the experience had reminded Harry of just how good a wizard Dumbledore had been - and still was. The character of the wand was temperamental and malicious, requiring enormous delicacy and subtlety to get the most out of any spells it cast.

Harry sighed. "Perhaps it would be better to just learn to be a great shinobi and forget about spells, but…" he grimaced. "I just can't. I'm too much a wizard for fighting without a wand to ever feel natural."

"Natural?" Ron scoffed. "It feels like fighting with both hands tied behind my back. I _hate_ it."

Dumbledore sighed, and rubbed his forehead. For a long minute he stared at the desk top, until the trio were glancing at each other in confusion. To be honest, Harry had thought the Hokage would think it was a good idea. They had volunteered for this service in the first place, after all. They weren't prisoners, and both the experience and the hypothetical wands they might gain would make them much stronger.

Dumbledore stood abruptly and walked over to the window, looking out over Konoha.

"Professor?" Hermione asked hesitantly, and with growing suspicion in her voice. "Is there something you should tell us?"

For a long minute Dumbledore only stared out the window. Then he turned, tucking his hands into his sleeves.

"Perhaps," he said soberly. "Perhaps I should have told you this when you first arrived, but…" he sighed, but when he met Harry's eyes his gaze was steady with the wisdom and sorrow of nearly three hundred years of life, all combined. "I wanted you to be happy. I still do. How can I regret that?"

Harry felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. "This-" he moistened his suddenly dry lips and tried again. "This isn't 'we still need you here' or 'we're not trusted by the Council' sort of bad news, is it," he croaked.

Dumbledore's face remained very still. "Voldemort," he said.

Harry was already out of his chair, standing in front of Dumbledore's desk, fists clenched, shaking. "You bastard," he hissed. "_You bastard_. Don't you dare, don't you _dare_ say anything."

"I'm afraid I have to," Dumbledore said conversationally, though his posture was rigid. "Voldemort was reincarnated. It was almost impossible that he wouldn't be, given the influence he had on the world."

"Since when does destroying something count as influence?" Ron said from behind Harry, in the controlled voice that meant he was utterly furious.

"Do you- God," Harry said, and covered his face with his shaking hands. "God, no. Please, no. I won't believe it. I _can't_. Do you have any idea of how many people died to kill him last time? Do you have any idea what we did, what we sacrificed?" His voice was rising uncontrollably. "You can't, it _can't_ be true," he said, voice shaking. "No one… nothing could be so cruel…"

"Orochimaru," Hermione said, voice dead, and Dumbledore looked up sharply.

"You know of him?" he asked.

"You were very cagey about your third pupil, so I looked him up. I noticed the resemblance to Voldemort, but thought that you hadn't told us because the resemblance was painful to you. But instead, it was because they were one and the same person. How foolish of me," she said, all in the same mild monotone.

Harry grabbed Dumbledore by the collar of his robes. "Tell me. It's not. Tell me it's _not fucking true_," he hissed. He couldn't bear it. The possibility had never occurred to him, even though it _should_ have, because he _knew_ about Orochimaru and it was _so goddamn obvious_, but the thought was so horrible and cruel and how could life be so unfair? Harry couldn't breathe. He didn't think he could bear it.

This wasn't a second chance. This was a punishment, and Harry _didn't think he could bear it_.

He staggered backwards, slumping into his chair and putting his head in his hands. "Those years were the worst of my life. No, that's not saying enough. Those years were constant terror and pain and privation and grief and I wouldn't wish them on my worst enemy," he said.

"Except Voldemort," Ron said dryly, and Harry marvelled at his ability to make jokes at a time like this.

"Him I wish them upon a thousand times over," Hermione said with fervent hatred. "May he rot in the very depths of hell. May he burn for the rest of infinity. May he be skinned alive. May his eyes be gouged out with spoons. May his liver be torn out every day and his tongue every night."

Even Harry looked up at Hermione in amazement. She raised an eyebrow at them. "What, you think he doesn't deserve it?"

Finally, reluctantly, Harry smiled. "He does," he sighed. "A thousand times over. But I won't be the one to do it."

All three of them looked at him. "I had no intention of asking you to," Dumbledore said, brow creasing.

"Good," Harry said. "Because I would rather cut my own throat than fight that long, horrible war again." And he meant it. The horrors of the war that had destroyed Wizarding Britain and most of the Wizarding World still played out in his dreams. Eyeless, bodyless children's heads. Husband turned against wife, and blood covering the floor as they mindlessly rip each other apart with their bare hands. Ginny, her body unrecognisable, her mind broken. Neville, who was lucid and brave til the end, even as they cut open his stomach, staked out his intestines and left him to die.

Rape, torture, murder. Death after death after death. Sending friends out on suicide missions. Having to choose between a room full of innocent children and life of a hardened warrior, and choosing the warrior every time, in the desperate fight for one more day of life. In his desperation, he had made impossibly hard choices, and every one had splintered his soul a little more.

"I'm sorry," he said calmly. "I shouldn't have been reincarnated. I should have died, because I reached my limit long ago. I have no courage left to draw on."

Warm arms surrounded him, and Harry closed his eyes and leaned into Ron and Hermione's embrace. They had seen everything he had seen, survived everything he had survived. He had no secrets to hide from them.

He allowed himself to draw on their strength for a moment, then stood. Ron and Hermione followed, none of them looking at Dumbledore.

"I'm glad you didn't tell us before," Harry said conversationally. "I wish you hadn't told us now. I wish you had strangled that man the day he was born. I wish I had been alive then to do it myself." He was breathing hard, the effort of keeping his voice even taking a toll.

"We are going to go away, now. We are going to go and live peaceful, normal lives, and if we find out that Voldemort has discovered our existence, we will personally hunt down the person that betrayed us and kill them," Ron said, ice hard. "Do you understand?"

Dumbledore looked torn between anger and understanding, but finally settled on a slow nod. "Go, then," he said quietly. "Say goodbye to your families first, though."

Harry barely managed to get outside the door before he started shaking.

--

Telling the Uchiha's he was leaving had been… traumatic. Harry really felt like hitting himself, though whether it was for making his mother cry or being stupid enough to feel guilty over it, he wasn't sure. None of them understood. None of them could understand, not without Harry explaining his true origins, and Dumbledore was very serious about keeping that a secret.

Well, Harry knew why now. He made himself continue breathing deeply and forcibly turned his mind away from – that man.

His mother had cried, his father had been angry and his brother had watched with calculating eyes. Harry couldn't help but wonder what he had been thinking. Itachi had been his teacher in the advanced Uchiha taijutsu and ninjutsu, and the use of the Sharingan in combat. He had taught Harry all of the things their father thought he was too young to know, and Harry was very grateful, but Itachi was confusing. He was cool, then warm, then cool, and Harry could never predict how he was going to react.

Plus, Itachi was an eleven-year-old boy. Kids were alright in small doses, but Harry was, oh, 34 years old, all up. Beyond the mechanics of fire element techniques or the correct way to throw multiple shuriken, they didn't have much to talk about.

Harry groaned, and rubbed at his face. Why did everything have to be so goddamned complicated? All he needed was Ron and Hermione. Why did all these other people insist on shouldering their way into his life?

And speaking of people who had shouldered their way into his life, Harry now had to go and tell the prime culprit. Harry walked through the streets, not even bothering to glance longingly at the rooftops. There was no way he was blowing his cover for something as petty as convenience.

Finally, he arrived at the apartment building he knew Kakashi lived in. He entered, nodding politely at the man at the reception, and headed up the stairs. There was an elevator, but they made Harry nervous. Something about being trapped in a metal box hanging from a cord a long way above the ground.

He trudged up the stairs, finally entering the fifth floor. He looked around, trying to superimpose his external memory of where Kakashi's apartment was with the muted green hallways he faced now. He'd only ever seen Kakashi come out of his window, before. Once he had located the apartment, he approached the door warily. He hesitated outside, suddenly unaccountably shy.

_Don't be an idiot_, he scolded himself. _He's seen your rooms. Well, not the ones in the Uchiha Compound, but it's no big deal. He's not that serious about privacy anyway. Well, except the mask. And refusing point blank to talk about his past. And treating even his own likes and dislikes as if they were state secrets…_

Harry cut off that line of thought before he could talk himself out of it, and just knocked on the door.

There was no reply. Harry frowned, and knocked again. There was still only silence. Extending his senses, the rooms appeared empty, but that was no guarantee. Harry was no Hermione, to pick out hidden chakra signatures even when blind, concussed and at a thousand paces.

After a moment of hesitation, Harry shrugged and held his hand over the lock. He frowned, and after a moment a bead of sweat ran down his face, but then the lock clicked open. He pushed the door open, and entered, avoiding the traps and illusions. Once he had reached the centre of the room he paused and looked around. Nope, definitely no Kakashi.

Harry scowled. This was so inconvenient. He knew Kakashi wasn't out on a mission, which meant he was somewhere in Konoha, and Harry just didn't have time to search for him. After thinking for a minute, he decided on a plan of action. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out three grey masks.

For a long minute, he just stood there, looking down at the masks in his hand. He ran a hand over the smooth, cool, magically hardened porcelain, feeling the scratch on one that marked where it had stopped a sword about to hit Hermione's face and saved her life. Just above the eye hole on another, a chip marked where Ron had been punched through a brick wall.

The third mask was Harry's, and was unmarked. He'd taken some fairly serious hits over the years, but none with the brute force needed to crack Dumbledore's strongest protections.

Harry smiled ruefully, and laid the three masks out on Kakashi's kitchen table. Then he rummaged round in his bag again, finally coming out with a pen and a scrap of rumpled paper. He chewed on the end of the pen as he tried to compose a suitable goodbye, but only became more and more frustrated.

Finally, he sighed and bent over the paper.

--

Harry, Ron and Hermione met outside Konoha, just out of sight of the gate-guards. Harry was the last to arrive. Hermione was already there, looking miserable and guilt-stricken, while Ron hovered over her anxiously. He had brought all their gear, since he didn't have anyone to say good bye to.

They both looked up when Harry arrived, head down, hands deep in his pockets. For a long moment, all of them just stood there, waiting.

Finally Ron broke the silence. "So…"

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "Who knew that I was going to miss Konoha?"

Hermione sniffed, rubbing angrily at her eyes. "My parents were so upset. They don't even understand ninjas, let alone me."

Ron slung an arm sympathetically over her shoulder, but there was really nothing any of them could say.

"Let's go, then," she eventually said, and they all reluctantly shouldered their packs, throwing one last look back at Konoha.

"We'll be back one day," Ron promised, and both Harry and Hermione noted the longing in his eyes.

"Well, obviously," Hermione sniped, and they set off to the sound of the bickering of three old friends.

* * *

_A/N: edited 28th August 2008 for world-building and flow. Next chapter may or may not come soon - who knows._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Mama. Mother. _Hermione._"

"Uh, yeah, definitely," Hermione said absently, not looking up from her book. Harry sighed, and jumped up onto the desk, sitting cross-legged on the desk in front of her. After a minute, Hermione glanced up briefly, then sat up straight and stared.

"Harry!" she hissed, and looked quickly around the quiet room to make sure nobody was watching. There were only a few people around, and the only sound was the rustle of pages turning and the scritch of pen on paper. "This is a _library_."

Harry smiled at her, and made a show of settling more comfortably. "It's lunch time," he said.

Hermione snapped the book shut with a thud, which did get the attention of the other scholars. Harry waved apologetically at the dark looks and jumped down off the table as Hermione rose, gathering up her papers and pens. They skulked out of the room under the weight of disapproving silence, but as soon as the door closed behind them Hermione punched him in the arm.

"You brat, act your age," she said, but stretched out her arms above her head and sighed. "Well, I guess I had been sitting still for a while. Where's Ron?"

"He went ahead to order and save us a table. And watch the punches, hey? You'll get pulled up for child abuse."

Hermione grinned at him. Harry had pulled the short straw this week – Ron and Hermione were both under different variations of an advanced Henge technique, masquerading as a married couple in their early thirties. Harry, unfortunately, got to be their son. For reasons Hermione had speculated about at length, people found groups of three adults much more suspicious than two – even more threatening than a large group of six or seven.

Well, whatever the cause, a couple with a child was the least noticeable grouping of three people they had hit upon. (A teenage older sister with two young brothers was best for eliciting sympathy and free food, though.)

Harry stuck his tongue out at Hermione and slipped his hand into hers. "Mama," he whined, making his voice as high-pitched and annoying as possible. "I want ice cream."

"You brat," Hermione muttered under her breath – they were walking past some occupied offices. "I'll pinch you, see if I won't."

"Child abuse," Harry reminded her.

They kept bickering lightly as they exited the library and headed down the road to the BBQ house Ron had taken a fancy to. If nothing else, it provided good cover. Ron raised an eyebrow when they arrived holding hands, though.

"Hello, honey," he said to Hermione, and to Harry, "good job, kiddo."

Harry's eyebrow twitched, but he smiled at Ron, perhaps showing a bit more teeth than necessary.

"Did you order for us?" Hermione asked, heading off the impending argument.

"Yeah, it'll be here soon."

They filled the minutes until the meat arrived with small talk. Harry had long since decided that the easiest way of staying in character as a child was to keep his mouth shut, and so he stared out the window as Ron and Hermione discussed the weather and a funny old woman Ron had run into that morning.

After the meat had arrived, though, Harry dropped his hands under the table and put up a few discrete anti-eavesdropping charms. Well, genjutsu, technically, since they required handseals, but they were similar enough to standard charms that it made no difference. Any one who tried to listen in would suddenly find some other conversation fascinating and feel compelled to listen in on that one. Anything they did manage to overhear would be impossible to remember – it would slip through their memory like water through a sieve.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, keeping his body language relaxed, as if they were still discussing the weather.

"I got a message from Konoha this morning," Harry said.

"I didn't know that," Hermione said accusingly. "You should have got me earlier."

Harry shrugged. "It's nothing urgent, I think, and it was addressed to me. He wants me to go back. Apparently there's some problem with my family."

"What sort of problem?"

"No idea, but it's probably political. Knowing that guy," Harry added dryly.

"Huh," Ron said, and lifted a piece of meat of the barbecue in the centre of the table and nibbled on it. "The meat's ready."

"That takes me back," Hermione said absently as she neatly scissored a piece of meat with her chopsticks and popped it in her mouth.

"Yeah," Ron said nostalgically. "It hasn't been that long, I guess, but..."

"Well, two years," Harry said, but sighed. "I don't particularly want to go back yet."

"I wonder how... our former team-mate's doing?" Hermione mused. "I guess he's still in the same line of work." She suddenly snorted. "Can you imagine him taking a genin team?"

Ron snickered behind his hand. "Any kid with him as a teacher would be scarred for life."

"I can't imagine it myself," Harry admitted. "But they'll probably move him out of ANBU at some point, so they can get full value out of his reputation."

"Yeah, but this is off the subject. What are you going to do?" Ron asked.

Harry picked up another piece of meat, but didn't immediately eat it. "I guess... I'll go back. If it turned out to be something serious and I wasn't there, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. There's no need for you guys to come, though."

"Hey," Ron protested, but Hermione said matter-of-factly,

"Good. I want to finish my research here, and then in Kamiyama. I think I'm really on to something."

"Don't tell me about it. Please," Ron muttered, and Hermione scowled at him. Although her research had started out as a simple search for materials for wands, when that proved futile it had soon degenerated into an academic study on the manipulation of chakra through handseals compared to foci.

Honestly, even Harry found it difficult to get excited about it. He had been perfectly content to leave research behind when he graduated from Hogwarts, and had no desire to take it up again now. He and Ron usually entertained themselves, and they all met up for meals to compare stories.

"Well, I'll be safer in Konoha than Hermione will be here, so why don't you stay with her?" Harry suggested to Ron. "I'll rejoin you guys once I've sorted out my family mess."

Ron looked reluctant, but agreed, and so Harry set out after lunch for Konoha. It was strange to think that it had been almost two years. The holiday had done them all good. For the first few months, they had approached it with the grim practicality they approached missions, but as they realised that there was no pressing objective, they had all relaxed. It was... fun, to be able to choose your destination on a whim. It was fun to create different characters at each town, to briefly get involved in the lives of ordinary people.

While Hermione was conducting her research, Harry and Ron had made a bit of a name for themselves – well, not as _themselves_, as such, but they'd cleared out a few gangs of bandits and low-ranked missing-nin under false names. It was useful to have a reputation to trade on when you needed it, but mostly it was just fun. There were some really strong guys out there, and if you were pretending to be freelance ninja yourselves, you were almost expected to pick fights with them, just to see who was stronger.

The answer was Harry and Ron, always, but they'd had some close calls. And about half the time, when they were fighting decent guys, they'd beaten their opponents up, kicked them out of town and left them alive and cursing. That was a luxury you didn't get on missions. If someone saw you, you killed them, and you just tried not to think about the state of your soul.

When the scenery began to change into the dense woods and rolling hills of the countryside that surrounded and hid Konoha, Harry found his heart lifting. He'd never really felt attached to Fire Country or the Hidden Leaf before, but this felt suspiciously like coming home.

Once inside Konoha, Harry paused at the turn off to the Uchiha District. He had intended to go speak to Dumbledore first, but being so close, he wondered if he shouldn't have a poke around and see what he could find out for himself.

In the end, it was more a whim than anything that took him towards his ancestral home. He kind of wanted to see how everything had changed - maybe whether anything had changed. It really didn't feel like they'd been away for long at all.

This part didn't feel much like coming home, but it did feel amazingly familiar to walk under the arch and onto the land that was officially designated Uchiha territory. It was late afternoon, almost dusk, and he admired the deep golden sunlight as it lit up the district that was his by blood-right. As he continued to walk, though, something began to niggle at him. He couldn't quite put it his finger on it, but there was definitely something wrong here.

He stopped, and looked around, forcing himself to consider the situation with shinobi eyes. There were none of the telltale signs of danger - no flaring chakra, no killing intent, no glints of light off metal, no sound of suppressed breathing. Everything was quiet.

Everything was silent. Between one heartbeat and the next Harry slid into the frame of mind required for business. He considered briefly going for help, but if the Uchiha district had been attacked then the military police would have been as well, and he couldn't exactly walk up to ANBU headquarters and say 'Yo, give me a hand.'

Instead, he advanced warily into the district. There was still nothing out of place - no fires, no broken windows. Nothing to suggest a battle, and he began to relax, wondering if he was overreacting. Maybe there was some big event on?

Those thoughts were wiped clear when he turned the next corner. Although he knew as soon as he saw the crumpled figure, he still had that same, ingrained human reaction - _that can't be a person_. The body looked deceptively harmless, like a doll thrown carelessly onto the road by a young giant's hand. The only sign of violence was the few clean lines of blood that marked death by fast sword.

As Harry approached the body, its face resolved into that of a woman. He saw that it was his father's cousin. She had run the bakery on the corner and had once scolded him for disrespect, then given him a free currant bun to make up for it.

In the implacably slow world Harry was inhabiting, her slack face didn't surprise him. He felt as if he had walked this street a thousand times before. He was walking in one of his nightmares, where the past melded with the present and he walked in the company of enemies and ghosts. It was the closest he had felt to the Wizarding World in eight years - as if just around the corner he would see a black robe and green light, or the body of a friend, and he couldn't decide whether he wanted it or feared it more.

Harry kept walking. There was still no sign of danger, which he was vaguely thankful of, because he wasn't sure that he was in any state to fight. Without thought, as if his destination was preordained, his feet led him towards his parents' house.

The house was dark, and he approached it calmly, with only a faint prickle down the back of his neck reminding him that he was very lightly armed and walking into a place that was dark, cramped and could well contain an ambush.

The house itself was empty, and he walked silently along the narrow path to the dojo and slid the door open. His father was holding his mother, head fallen forward, hair shadowing his face. Her pale face caught the light, and Harry wondered distantly how they had died. Had Fugaku been trying to protect his wife when the sword slid home? Had he died as he rocked her, lost in grief? Or had the killers arranged them like this, in a mocking parody of a loving embrace?

Harry could have sworn he was alone in the room, but a dark figure abruptly loomed out of the shadows. Harry stepped back, then relaxed when he saw it was Itachi.

"Who did this?" Harry asked. "What's going on?"

"I did it," Itachi replied. Harry couldn't see his face in the shadows caused by the late afternoon sun. All he could see was Itachi's slowly revolving Sharingan.

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry retorted, but he felt goosebumps rise on his arms, and a very clear voice at the back of his head was saying, _you're only lightly armed._ "Do you know who's behind this?"

"I wanted to test my capacity," Itachi said. "You're the last one."

Harry's hand was moving slowly back for a storage scroll. He had his own Sharingan activated, but he said, "Bullshit. I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you may as well-"

"_Tsukuyomi_."

The world dissolved in red and black, and Harry barely bit back a scream as Fugaku was suddenly right there, alive with red eyes and weapon drawn.

"Itachi!" Fugaku roared, and then staggered, as clean steel appeared through his chest.

Cousin Azuko was carrying four bags of groceries, looking cross, when suddenly her head was rolling across the floor.

Uncle Sado was reaching for the bottle of sake when he slumped forward-

- Keiko was shouting at her children, and lived long enough to see them die -

- Haruhiko was sleeping with Keisuke's wife -

- Keisuke was half way home from work -

- Takane was doing the dishes, and dropped the soapy plate as the tanto crunched through the base of her skull -

- Mikoto opened the door and smiled. "Itachi! Welcome home - we didn't expect you until -"

Harry reeled as the world spun around him, red with blood and black with shadows, and suddenly Fugaku was right there in front of him, with red eyes and weapon drawn. "Itachi!" Fugaku roared -

"Oh god," Harry whispered, as he watching all his hundreds of relatives begin to die again. "Itachi."

He wasn't sure how long he spent trapped in Itachi's illusion, fighting against shadows and running from death scene to death scene. It felt like ten thousand years, and when the world resolved itself back into Itachi's eyes, he felt as if he had died every one of those deaths himself.

His knees gave way beneath him, which was probably the only thing that saved him as Itachi's tanto whistled above his head. He managed to catch the second stroke on a kunai, though, then forced Itachi to block himself by throwing the kunai hard at his stomach.

That won Harry enough space to pull himself back to his feet, and he steadied himself on the wall, desperately trying to pull his shattered mind back together. He saw Itachi's next attack coming and deflected it with another kunai. This time, instead of throwing it, he slid it fast down the blade towards Itachi's hand, and although Itachi pulled back nearly as quickly he only escaped with a long shallow gash across his knuckles.

That steadied Harry a little. Even if he had just survived something very close to hell, even if he felt more beaten and weary than he had felt in years, even if his brother was freakishly, terrifyingly strong for a thirteen year old, Harry was still faster. He could work with that.

Itachi approached more warily this time, and Harry used the time to think, keeping his eyes on Itachi's torso. Harry had the edge in speed, but Itachi was better armed and probably didn't feel like he'd been trampled by a herd of elephants. Harry could use fire-based ninjutsu, but Itachi could probably use it better, though Harry wasn't sure. Genjutsu was useless for both of them. The only advantage Harry had was that Itachi didn't know he had the Mangekyo Sharingan, but Harry didn't have the chakra to use it more than once.

As he had many, many times over the last eight years, Harry wished with all his heart for a wand. It was only a fleeting wish, though, because then there were two swords coming at Harry from opposite sides. Harry looked through the genjutsu, and then the one behind, and then on a hunch looked even deeper and saw through the third. It was purely out of instinct that he threw up a few genjutsu of his own - half-hearted things, which had Harry trying this attack or that attack. Harry didn't put much power into them. Instead, he waited until a bare second before Itachi had broken the last one, and threw all his weight behind his favourite genjutsu, an illusion that showed the subject whatever they expected to see.

That did catch Itachi for a moment, and he leapt back warily. Harry took the chance to escape out the door, heading for Dumbledore and assistance.

He ducked - there was no thought involved. His body moved of its own volition, and Itachi's sword sliced through his hair, scoring a line of pain across his scalp. He was back in the room, and Itachi was _right fucking there_.

As Itachi's weight changed to pull back - and the world was moving more slowly than Harry had ever seen before, and even the smallest twitch of the smallest muscle in Itachi's leg was lit up in Harry's vision like lightening - Harry drove a kunai through his wrist, snapping the tendon, and just ducked out of the way as the tanto fell. Three kunai used, two remaining. Harry blocked Itachi's left-handed kunai strike with kunai number four, then used his own left hand to send three shuriken singing towards Itachi's head. Itachi moved out of the way easily, slid out of the paths of the chakra strings Harry had attached to them, and Harry hit him with his best Fire Dragon technique, focusing it so intently that it was barely the diameter of an orange and blue flames flickered at the core. Even with all his control, the heat was intense. It hit Harry like a physical impact, and his eyes automatically tracked the beads of sweat which began to roll down Itachi's face as he dodged. Itachi's eyes flickered up to Harry's in preparation for another genjutsu, but Harry was ready this time.

_Tsukuyomi_, he mouthed, feeling the burn of eyes pushing beyond their natural limits, and Itachi froze, eyes glazing over.

Behind Harry, Itachi's tanto finally clattered to the floor.

The chakra drain of Tsukuyomi was so immense that Harry felt as if he was falling, even as his feet remained steady on the wooden floor. Only three seconds passed for him; two breaths and Itachi was staggering back, and in Harry's mind rested the visual transcript of the three days he had just spent torturing his brother.

He finally understood why the Uchihas were so obsessive about mental training, but that understanding was only a brief flash of distraction through a mind that had only one purpose. Itachi only took one step backwards as he staggered, but Harry was there. He didn't mess around this time. He had used more chakra in the past three minutes than he had in the previous three months, and he wasn't quite sure how much more he could call on before he killed himself, but Harry had never believed in playing it safe. He hit Itachi with his very best genjutsu, backed by nearly all the chakra he had left.

For a moment he thought Itachi was going to throw the genjutsu off - because it simulated an environment exactly the same as the real one, it was hard to make it stick. It was a fiendishly difficult little trick, but Harry had never regretted the countless hours he had devoted to it, and he had no cause to regret them now as Itachi faltered. Harry was aware in the corner of his mind which was holding the jutsu that Itachi believed that Harry had lunged for him with a kunai, and Itachi was now countering, but none of those messages were reaching Itachi's limbs. Itachi had already been stumbling, and without conscious control of his body he fell heavily against the wall.

Unfortunately, the pain of hitting the wall woke him from the technique, but that was okay. Harry hadn't been waiting around to see what would happen. By the time Itachi's eyes flew open in shock, Harry had him bound to the wall with ropes of chakra, near impossible to break, had cut the tendons in his remaining good wrist, and was disarming him - fast, and thoroughly.

When he was done, Harry back away a few steps and sat down hard.

Itachi looked down at him. His Sharingan had faded to black, and Harry suddenly realised that his own Sharingan had deactivated as well. He was out of chakra. He'd gambled his strength on that last move, and it had worked, and now he just had to hope that reinforcements showed up before he couldn't hold Itachi any longer.

"Sasuke..." Itachi said quietly.

"Yeah," Harry replied. It was hard, but he controlled the anger that was rising over his mission focus enough to keep his tone equally quiet as he said, "_Aniki_."

"You've become strong," Itachi said, voice as unreadable as ever. Harry wondered if he'd even noticed that his blood was trickling down the wall.

"I've always been strong," he said, baring his teeth in an unfriendly smile. "You, on the other hand, have never been stupid before."

"I have often been stupid," Itachi said.

"_Shut the fuck up_." And so much for controlling his temper - Harry breathed deeply. His head ached so much he could barely think - his heart hurt so much he could barely think. "Who did this?"

"I did," Itachi said.

"Bull-fucking-shit," Harry said, resorting to profanity when eloquence failed him. "I couldn't take out the entire clan by myself, and I'm not the one tied to the wall here."

Itachi made no reply. Christ, Harry had neither the strength nor the objectivity required for an interrogation, and it was his _brother_, god, his family-

He pulled himself back together with sheer force of will. "I'm prepared to accept that you... condoned this," he said, the words sour in his mouth. "Perhaps you even took part in this. Who else was involved?"

Itachi remained silent.

"I said, who- no, fuck that. _Why_?" He looked up at Itachi in silent, uncomprehending appeal. "How could you? Do you understand what you've done?"

"I have done what was necessary."

"Who decided it was necessary? Were you ordered to do this?"

Itachi's eyes said yes. Not obviously, not blatantly, but Harry was no slouch as a Legilimens, even without a wand.

"Was it someone from Konoha?"

Itachi looked away, which mean Harry couldn't read him but was a confession in itself. Seized by a sudden, horrible premonition, Harry whispered, "Was it the Hokage?"

There was no reply. Harry couldn't breathe, but at last Itachi looked back at him. "No," he said softly. "Not directly." And it was true. Harry's heart started beating again, and with it came the guilt that he had doubted Dumbledore, but he pushed it away.

"Who, then," he said, leaning more of his weight on his hands. He was almost at his limit. He couldn't even get any threat into his voice, and when Itachi didn't reply, he gave up on getting answers.

Instead he said, "You know, you've done something unforgivable," and his voice was low and rough with emotion. The words made no impact on Itachi's inscrutable face. Harry looked at him, ran his eyes over that young, pale skin - Itachi probably didn't even need to shave. Prompted by that thought, Harry said softly, "You're resolved. You think you're a man, made older than your years by pain and experience. You think you've made the only choice available to you, and chosen freely to bear the sin of killing your own parents."

There was no reaction of Itachi's face, but Harry saw all the confirmation he needed in Itachi's eyes. Harry breathed out slowly. "You're wrong," he said, the weight of experience making the words heavy. "No matter how resolved you are now, you will regret this day for the rest of your life. The pain of regret... you won't be able to escape it. You won't be able to turn back from your path." He paused, tasting the words, letting them fall with all the weight of a curse. "You've done something that can never be undone."

Like stones into still water, the words were swallowed by the silence. There was still no sound of discovery, or pursuit. Itachi was as pale as a ghost, though Harry suspected that was from blood loss rather than emotional disturbance.

Eventually, Itachi said, "My duty is not done yet."

Harry smiled cynically. "You'll forgive me if I'm not inclined to let you kill me."

Itachi shook his head slightly, then closed his eyes as if at sudden pain. "No," he said softly. "My... associate is still in Konoha. He won't leave without me."

"Good," Harry said. "We'll catch him too."

"No," Itachi said insistently. "You mustn't. He will destroy you."

Harry tilted his head. "He'll destroy all of Konoha?"

"Yes," Itachi said. The lines in his face were more deeply engraved than ever. He looked drawn and in pain. "With pleasure."

"Konoha is not that weak-"

"This man is that strong," Itachi said, and at the very least Harry believed that Itachi believed it.

"His name?" Harry asked softly, but Itachi only shook his head. Harry pressed, "If he is a threat to Konoha, then Konoha should know."

"They won't believe you," Itachi said faintly.

"At least they'll be warned."

Itachi swallowed, and let his head fall back against the wall. He'd lost a lot of blood. Harry looked him over with a professional's eye, and judged that he needed medical attention fast if he was going to survive. He didn't move, though. Finally, Itachi whispered, eyes closed, "Uchiha Madara."

The name meant nothing to Harry, and with Itachi's eyes closed he had no way of knowing whether it was the truth, but he tucked it away in his mind anyway. "Where will you go, if I release you?" he asked.

"I will go with him," Itachi said. "I will watch him. I will serve Konoha as best I can."

There was still no sound outside, and Harry cursed Konoha's guards for fools and incompetents. He was starting to see double. The constant drain of maintaining the chakra bonds that held Itachi to the wall had reduced Harry's strength below nothing. He had less than a minute before he passed out from chakra exhaustion, and when he did the bonds would disappear as well. Acceding to the inevitable, he released the bonds.

Itachi's arms fell to his sides, but he made no attempt to stop the blood still seeping from his wrists and his ankles. He stood and looked at Harry, and Harry told him conversationally, "If I ever see you again, I'll kill you. No - if you ever set foot within a hundred miles of Konoha again, I'll kill you. Do you get it? From the minute you step outside this room, you are no brother of mine."

Itachi didn't acknowledge the threat. He looked away and began to limp towards the door, straight past Harry without so much as a glance down at him, holding his broken body together with chakra. Harry didn't watch him go.

The limping footsteps paused at the door behind him, though, and Harry tensed. No attack came, and he looked back over his shoulder.

Itachi was silhouetted in the doorway by the faint moonlight outside - night had fallen. He was looking back at Harry, and he looked like a stranger for the first time tonight. He looked nothing like the brother Harry had grown up with. "Sasuke," he said, and all Harry could read in that voice was pain and exhaustion. "I never intended to kill you."

And then he stepped out of the room. Harry watched him across the porch, gingerly down the steps, and along the path until he disappeared into the shadows. Then he let out his breath explosively and fell back, so he was lying flat, staring at the ceiling. It was an interesting sensation. He was right on the verge of fainting from exhaustion, but with no further drain on his chakra, he seemed to be maintaining consciousness somehow.

"As if you could," he told the absent Itachi. There was thankfully no reply. Harry watched the pale moonlight cast on the ceiling by the open door, and at some point, without realising it, he passed out.


End file.
